Greek Mythology Collection
by QueranAislinn
Summary: 80 one shots based off prompts from the Greek Mythology Mega Prompt Challenge on HPFC.
1. Aphrodite

She had married Rodolphus years ago, while she was far to young to know the truth of marriage, under her parents' orders. Hers had been a marriage to secure the connection between the Ancient and Noble Houses of Black and Lestrange. It had been decades since the last joining of the two families when they had been wed.

They were purebloods; marriage didn't mean love. They knew that keenly after watching both their parents' coldness to each other in their youth, but they had hoped that it could lead to love. Marriage meant good relationships with other pureblood families. It meant more allies, and more support whenever you needed it. Family helped family, after all, and, through marriage, all purebloods were family. That was how it had been for as long as the wizarding world had existed. The Dark families were closer related than the Light, but they were still cousins and, while they were often at odds with each other, they knew their loyalties lay with people of similar blood.

At least the Dark pureblood families did. The Light families seemed to be losing that tradition to the welcome of the mudbloods, and the Ministry.

In the days of the youth of their marriage, there had been attraction holding Rodolphus and her marriage together. They would not have been paired together otherwise, but that had long since faded into the monotony of daily life and bored expectation they had begun to hold for each other. There had never been the spark, no shared interest between them, no common ground but the purity of their blood. It had only been lust. Lust that had faded with the passing of time, and with the increase of familiarity.

It still was only lust, but no longer on her side. Rodolphus was the only one who insisted on the continuation of their marriage. He was the only one that still clung to his old fascination. Maybe he had truly fallen in love after some time, she didn't know, but had it been up to her, she would have long since called the marriage off, pureblood rules be damned.

That relationship was nothing like the one she had with the Dark Lord.

She knew her sister disapproved. Poor, proper Narcissa whom had never done anything that the Black customs did not dictate. Narcissa had always been the perfect Black child in the eyes of their parents. Andromeda had blown it when she ran away and married that mudblood. She was the third daughter, the daughter that no one had cared much for. Her mother had never even liked her, she had been raised knowing that without doubt.

Until the Dark Lord had come along. He had seen her potential. He had taken her under his arm, and shared some of his power and knowledge with her.

Later he even shared his bed with her. They still did share a bed, even now, years later.

This was the spark she had once believed to have with Rodolphus, the one that would last through time. She felt the desire to please her Dark Lord, and fulfill his every need, something she had never felt with Rodolphus, something she was sure even Narcissa had never felt for Lucius.

She would love to carry her Lord's heir, but he did not need one. Her Lord was immortal, his power enabling him to stop death itself.

She still remembered the first night he had invited her to warm his bed. It had been an unexpected request, but she had feared his power enough not to question his demand.

She had followed him out of fear the first time.

The thought seemed to be absolutely strange to her now.

She had been jaded then, expecting to be thrown out as soon as he was done. She hadn't expected him to be as gentle as he had been. She hadn't expected him to allow her to share his bed for the rest of the night, but she had left almost immediately afterwards anyway, not willing to risk his wrath if she had assumed incorrectly.

She had known what to expect the next time, and the time after, until it had become something akin to a routine for them.

It hadn't taken Narcissa or Rodolphus long to realise what was going on, but there was nothing either could do or say against the most powerful Dark Lord in centuries.

She was proud of the fact that she was the only one of his faithfuls that he had ever made that request to. None of the other Death Eaters had ever even been allowed into her Lord's bedroom, while she had been given free reign to visit whenever she pleased.

Rodolphus had been angry. It hadn't made a difference.

Rodolphus had had his chance. He hadn't managed to capture her attention for long enough. That was not her fault, he should have known better.

No one could remain in boredom without searching for something new, something that constantly kept her on her toes.

Her Lord was the only person who had ever managed to hold her attention, and she liked to thing that she had also managed to hold his through the years.

She'd like to think that he would continue to invite her to his bed for as long as he could.

She understood, though, that at some point she would not be able to serve him as she did now. She was young now, and beautiful, but her youth and beauty would fade in time. She could only hope that her Lord's fascination with her did not end with her appearance.

If it did, she would understand. It would disappoint her, but she would understand.

A mortal woman could never entertain an immortal for his entire existence. To do so, she would have to be immortal as well, but she wasn't magically powerful enough for that feat of amazing magic. She was powerful, but it wasn't enough for that.

For now though, she would do her best to keep his attention for as long as possible. She still had everything she needed to make her job easy. She knew him well enough by now to know what he liked, and what he disliked, and what interested him.

Her Lord.

Her lover.

**AN: Greek Mythology Challenge: Aphrodite - write about adultery**


	2. Goodbye

"That blond boy, he's trouble. Stay away from him, Albus. Old Bathilda said he was nearly expelled from Durmstrang multiple times," my mother warned me as she saw the blond head of Gellert near our home again.

History told me that my mother was often simply overprotective as most mothers were. There had been the rare occasion prior where she had been correct, but they were few and far between. I waved her off, nodding noncommittally as I walked out the door.

Gellert and I had only met this summer, but he was so similar to me. His thoughts and plans were almost perfectly aligned with mine. Gellert's mind was absolutely brilliant, the only person I had ever met with a mind as brilliant as my own.

I had always wanted to have someone I could talk to about anything, without the pressure of having to sound smart or responsible, and without the pressure of me having to fill the shoes my father had thoughtlessly left behind. While I was the oldest child and, yes, that meant more responsibility, it didn't mean that I had to always think of my family.

It truly was wonderful being able to talk about the future with someone of a similar mentality, someone who knew what they wanted and how they were going to get it. It was such a change from Aberforth and Ariana, both of whom were content with their lives the way it was. I knew that if Aberforth hadn't been forced, he would not have even gone to Hogwarts.

It was ridiculous. How could anyone have such little ambition?

Gellert was waiting for me under one of the larger trees that was just out of sight of both my home and the house of Aunt Bathilda. Aunt Bathilda had told my mother of Geller and my friendship in the beginning of the summer. I was sure my mother was having her keep an eye on us.

I knew she was worried but it was frustrating having to hide all my activities from her watching eyes. Nothing had happened, and nothing was going to happen. All we were doing were planning our futures.

"Albus," he greeted, looking up.

I smiled as his German accent brushed over me. I had found it a bit difficult to understand him at the beginning of the summer but had eventually grown fairly fond of it.

"Gellert," I replied, sitting down next to him.

"Looks like your mother still doesn't like me," Gellert laughed. "I saw the look she gave me as I passed your house on the way here. It looked like she wished the ground would just swallow me."

I groaned. Gellert had an aptitude for making everything seem a lot worse than it really was.

"She was not! Mother simply hasn't really met you yet. She's only ever heard about you from other people, and you can't always trust what you hear."

"But there is always some truth in what people say, no matter how much you would like to believe otherwise. Their words always have to stem from something. People's imaginations aren't that good," Gellert smirked. "Besides, my reputation is starting to grow on me."

I groaned. "You're incorrigible. Aren't you even going to try and change their opinions?"

Gellert shook his head, leaning back onto the grass. "There isn't any use fighting over the past. I'd much rather spend my time working on my future. Their opinions will change on their own."

"I can't believe you. I would have been doing everything I could to make sure people think highly of me. It makes everything so much easier."

"Not everyone can have pristine reputations like you do. Some people have to get noticed through other ways that are less popular," Gellert said lazily.

"I doubt getting kicked out of Durmstrang would be the easiest way to get yourself noticed," I told him. "I'm pretty sure you can manage the highest grades in your year, or something."

Gellert rolled his head to look at me. "There isn't time for all that frivolity. How is turning a porcupine into a glass helpful to anyone? I spend my time researching everything I need to help me in my future, important things."

"What kind of things?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I know I'm on to something. I can feel it." Gellert's eyes were wide with excitement I had never before seen on his face. It made me curious, igniting my excitement in the process.

"Give me a clue or something! You can't just tell me that and say nothing!"

"They are artefacts lost so long a time they are thought to be nothing but myth," Gellert whispered, eyes intense.

I struggled to cast my mind back to any stories that may seem even vaguely possible. Nothing jumped out at me. Gellert smiled then turned to lie back comfortably as if knowing I wasn't going to figure it out.

I sighed.

* * *

><p>"You're mad, you know that? The both of you! The Deathly Hallows don't exist! Even if they did, they've been lost for centuries! What are you going to do? Turn every rock on every beach hoping it's the Resurrection Stone?!" Aberforth growled angrily. "I thought you had more sense than that, Albus!"<p>

"I don't expect you to understand, Aberforth," I started.

"Damn right, I don't. You have a responsibility to your family and at first opportunity you want to go off gallivanting with this Grindelwald fellow!"

"Don't place all the blame on, Albus," Gellert growled, wand sliding into his hand instantly.

"I'm not. You're just as responsible as he is," Aberforth spat, rounding on Gellert.

"You are the ones at fault for pushing so much responsibility onto Albus! He doesn't deserve any of it! He has dreams; he has a future! You are only holding him back!"

For a moment, I wished he would stop. I could see the tears in Ariana's eyes as she silently asked me if it were true. I couldn't deny it. I looked away.

"He has a responsibility to his family! If he actually bothered to actually take any, I wouldn't have to push so hard! And for what? He gives up on his family for a dream that will never happen!"

"Who says it will never happen?" I said, starting to get annoyed with Aberforth's assumptions. How difficult would it be for him to mind Ariana by himself for just a summer? He was doing a wonderful job anyway.

"Your entire plan is futile. What are you looking for? A cloak, a wand, and a stone. Let me tell you, there are millions of each. Take your pick," Aberforth said, mocking eyes turning to me.

The first spell shot from my wand, and Aberforth's eyes widened as he was forced to dodge the oncoming curse. The three-way duel that ensued afterwards was one I remember as a blur of spells. Gellert had joined after Aberforth had retaliated, forcing him into the defence as he struggled to protect Ariana as well as himself.

I could hear Ariana's upset cries as she watched us duel. Her words were lost to the flurry of spell on spell, but her intention was clear. She wanted us to stop. I could see she was growing frantic, and tears were starting to trace their way down her cheeks as she realised she was having no effect on any of us. Ariana's magic was starting to whip around as she grew more upset.

Finally, she left Aberforth's side without him noticing and ran into the centre of the fray. It only took a moment for her to be struck down by a curse that was meant to be for someone else. Deathly silence fell with her body a moment later.

Neither of us knew which of the many spells we had cast had hit her. All had been cast with the intention to harm, but the knowledge that the other was probably able to defend themselves.

Even _I_ could not have foreseen Ariana's actions. Aberforth's expression told me he was just as shocked as I was. Gellert's expression was horrified, whatever he had expected the outcome of our duel to be, he had not expected this.

Gellert took a step towards me, but I caught his eye and shook my head minutely with a pointed look towards my brother. He looked confused for a moment, before his eyes widened and he nodded.

I knew my brother would blame Gellert for this, as would everyone else because of his reputation. Ariana's death could have been caused by any of our spells, but the fault rested on all of us and no single person.

"Ariana, no! Fight! A life is a life, c'mon, fight, Ariana, fight."

It was already too late. Ariana's blue eyes were already fluttering shut. Nothing was going to save her.

"Albus, look! You got your wish! You're free to do as you please now. I can take care of myself. Why don't you go off with your _friend_ now?"

"Gellert, just go," I said as I saw him open his mouth to reply in my stead. He gave me a sorrow-filled look, glanced at Ariana and left at my prompting.

"What? Trouble in paradise?" Aberforth mocked.

I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself. Aberforth was upset, I couldn't lash out at him for his words.

"Go, Albus. I know you're dying to speak with that boy. Stop trying to act like you cared."

His words were harsh, and true. I hadn't cared and it cost me a little piece of what was left of my family.

I hastily followed Gellert's earlier footsteps at Aberforth's furious glare.

"Albus! I'm so sorry. That girl, your sister, she was just there, and then she fell. It was so sudden, so quick! I don't know what happened."

"Gellert," I said, wrapping my arms around him, "you couldn't have known. It was impossible for any of us to tell who hit her."

"I'm going to have to leave. Soon. They'll blame it on me."

I nod.

"I only cause you pain and difficulty, Albus. I'm sorry. Go back to your brother. Tell him we had a fight, and that I'm leaving," Gellert said hollowly.

My eyes widened. "What? Why?"

Gellert smiled slightly. It was just a twist of his lips.

"You like your pristine reputation. My stained reputation comes in handy here. This is goodbye, Albus, hopefully, not forever."

Gellert gave me a soft kiss on the lips, and we parted.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Quidditch League Round 13<strong>

**Caerphilly Catapults: Chaser 1**

**Pairing: Dumbledore/Grindelwald**

**Prompts: (word) aptitude; (quote) "Life is life, fight for it" – Mother Teresa; (word) history**

**Greek Mythology Mega Prompt Challenge: Apollo: Write about a destructive relationship**


	3. Goblins

It was ever so boring sitting in his office every single day, staring at the same stone walls that were decorated with the same long dried blood that lay on each of their blades. He had stared at these walls for as long as he could remember, much longer than the witches and wizards had ever cared to. They believed themselves to be above his people, the goblins.

While there had been no wars in the past several centuries. They were growing weak, skills and practice being reduced to near non-existent. They were growing as stagnant as the wizardkind they despised so much. The younger generations barely knew how to hold their axes, while the older ones were not too much better than them. The fury and determination that they had often witnessed on the battlefield had faded into a greed for the gold they now guarded so zealously. The desire for gold had overcome their desire for blood, even though their grins still seemed to have the same effect on the wizards.

He still remembered how it had been when he was younger, watching his father come home every day with a satisfied expression on his face and blood on his blade while his mother would gain a proud glint to her eye at the sight of him. Their training had been rigorous, and had been to help them survive the constant wars their clans managed to find themselves in. They had returned to their various homes bathed in sweat, but satisfied in a way that could never be replaced with the deals of gold that they made today.

Their fierce demeanours despite their height had all since faded with the gradual change into clothing that the wizards saw as acceptable, simply so they could fit in, so they could fill the favour the wizards had asked of them not too long ago, and yet should it not be the other way around? The wizards had asked them to take charge of their vaults and safeguard their gold because of the fierceness of the goblins and the fact that no lies managed to pass through them, yet the wizards continued to sneer down on them, using their height as weapons.

All that remained of their fierceness now was the memory of it, and the history of their bloody wars. At this moment, he doubted the goblins at Gringotts would be able to defeat a troll if they were given the sharpest blade goblins could forge. He knew his father would have been extremely disappointed if he ever saw how badly the goblins had diminished. His father had once told him how he had defeated a troll half-asleep with nothing more than one of the pans my mother had in the kitchen. I had never doubted him with the look that had glinted within his eyes at his words.

The goblins needed war. They needed the hot rush of blood within their bodies as they fought for their lives. They needed the glint of defiance that was necessary to defy death and never give up. They needed life more than they had now. They needed the strength and courage that came with facing the choice of returning to the battlefield every day, and continuing to fight as people around them fell, but they wouldn't.

The goblins had fallen into a trap of complacency. All that passed through the goblins minds was the gold that was kept deep underground, accessible to no one without their permission. The goblins would not leave Gringotts for a battle, not while they found themselves safe within these stone walls. The younger goblins simply lacked the fire and life that the older goblins knew so keenly, and missed dearly.

It truly was saddening to know that most of the goblins he saw every day knew numbers better than they did weapons. They forgot their history while hanging onto the hatred that had been ingrained into them without knowing the true cause. They accepted everything they were told without question, and despite the fact that it made it much easier to run Gringotts, it was utterly shocking and had never been heard of in goblin history. They trusted other goblins with complete faith that they would not be lying, or if the information was proved to be incorrect that the other goblin simply did not know any better.

The only thing that they had managed to maintain to a fairly high standard was their forgery skills, because the only goblins allowed into their forges were the ones who were truly passionate about it. That had been the requirement for as long as he could remember, and as a result the standard of their crafts had only improved, although, the forges only made things to decorate now that the need for weapons had been reduced greatly.

The only people who needed weapons were the few people who had been trained for it, but their numbers were so low and their fighting so infrequent that they only needed their fathers' weapons and nothing new.

The only weapons created were for decorative value and were ridiculously far away from being anything near functional. He often found himself wondering where a warrior may hope to wield half the weapons that adorned some of the goblins' homes. He didn't even think to assume those goblins would be able to use those weapons should the need arise. In fact, he was almost positive those goblins would attempt to threaten or talk their way out of any trouble they may face: and utterly foreign thought to any of the remaining true goblins.

The foundations on which the goblin clans had stood on for as long as they had existed were crumbling helplessly with every young goblin that was not trained in the ways of old, especially since those young goblins would refuse to allow their kin to be taught to fight, to maintain the goblin culture as they should have thought to go long ago.

Lack of foresight was costing them dearly. They had believed the reprieve from war would only be short, one or two years at the most, but those years soon began growing until a decade had passed. Another decade followed that, and another, until it had been over a century since a goblin war had risen from an argument between two clans.

Until today, when he was too scared of asking new goblins of their clan for fear of them not even being sure of whish one they belonged to. The thought of a goblin not knowing even that simple fact of themselves meant that they may as well not have a name for all the good it was doing them. The idea of a goblin not knowing their clan, or even the meaning and reason behind why the clan was formed, gave him a sick feeling within his very bones. It would make him want to rip one of those axes off his wall and wield it against the damned goblin until they were shivering in fear.

It would not do to scare a goblin to that extent though. No one could tell what would happen anymore, the goblins of these days were too soft and squishy. They could probably die of the fright of him wielding a weapon threateningly, as ridiculous as that sounded. He almost wished he could scare the complacency out of the goblins, so that they would find their bloodlust.

A war could be arranged at any time, after all. Besides, he had seen a couple of goblins from the other clan carrying jewels that looked suspiciously like the ones his clan leader had grown extremely fond of. He just didn't want to see the decimation of the goblin numbers to the point where a truce would have to be called simply to ensure that the goblins did not find themselves extinct, and that was exactly what he expected to happen if a war did manage to break out.

It would be embarrassing. He was sure the wizards would like to teach about that war in their schools. The goblin war that ended to save the goblins from extinction. It would give those wizards something new to sneer at them over.

Not that they seemed to be fairing too well on their own. The wizards were currently in the second war they had over the course of around forty years. It was almost unfair that the wizards were having so many wars, yet the goblins had none despite being well known for their wars.

The goblins always stayed out of wizard business unless it involved their gold, though. Goblins were allowed to keep up with the wizarding happenings but not be a part of it. It allowed them to be impartial and whatever other nonsense those wizards had sprouted in order to get them to agree.

He still wanted a goblin to get involved though. It may just give him the opportunity to sharpen his blades…

**AN: Ares – Write about goblins**


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